


and in the end, i'd do it all again

by satrickptump



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death, Gen, M/M, Peterick, Time Travel AU, but you dont need to know what that is to read it, character deals with grief, kinda based on life is strange, no wives/kids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-12 03:33:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7083649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satrickptump/pseuds/satrickptump
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>pete can time travel. </p>
<p>(au slightly based on the game Life Is Strange.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Don't you know that I'll be around to guide you_

_Through your weakest moments to leave them behind you_

_Returning nightmares only shadows_

_We'll cast some light and you'll be alright_

_We'll cast some light and you'll be alright for now_

_The streets outside your window overflooded_

_People staring--they know you've been broken_

_Repeatedly reminded by the looks on their faces_

_Ignore them tonight and you'll be alright_

_We'll cast some light and you'll be alright_

 

It happened on a Friday night.

It had been approximately a week after Wintour had ended. The four of them, that being Patrick, Joe, Pete and Andy, of course, were going to have one last get together before taking a small break. Not a break like the infamous hiatus they had went through, but just some time to themselves to chill out for a little while. Their small get together had been Pete's idea, even though Patrick had remarked ' _haven't we all seen enough of each other_?' jokingly when he had brought it up. So, per Pete's request, a night that had singlehandedly been the _worst night of his entire life_ was to take place on a Friday night one week after the end of Wintour.

They had all gathered at Pete's house ( _it's your idea, so if anyone's house is gonna get wrecked for any reason, it's gonna be yours_ , Pete remembers Joe remarking) for the small 'party', which looked much more like a kids birthday party other than one that four grown men were going to attend. The floor was littered with black and white balloons, while some of the same color were floating around their heads.

Andy kicked a balloon towards Pete. "I think we need more balloons." he said sarcastically, earning a chuckle from Pete.

"Isn't this a little bit overboard? You act like we're never gonna see each other again." Patrick said, looking up at Pete as he pulled out a chair and took a seat.

"Nah," Pete said with a shrug, although perhaps a full blown party for four people was slightly overboard. He fought a grin when his band mates gave him pointed looks. "Okay, well, maybe. But hey, just the four of us never get to just hang out anymore unless we're on tour. Nothing wrong with chilling out while we have the time." he continued, leaning on Patrick's chair, who shrugged in response. "Besides, you know me. I'm always overboard."

"Guess I can't argue against that." Patrick said with a grin.

Pete looked at the time. "Shit! I gotta go pick up the cake."

"Cake?" Joe asked, looking over at Pete with a questioning look.

"Hell yeah, the cake." he responded, grabbing his keys. "Can't have a party without cake. Even if there's only four people to eat it."

Andy laughed at that, shaking his head. "What is this, a birthday party?"

"Gonna pick up some pizza, too. Food is essential to parties." Pete said.

"Technically, food is just essential in general." Joe replied kiddingly.

"Alright, so, Patrick, you should come with me." the blond bassist said, poking Patrick in the shoulder and motioning for him to follow.

"What? Why?" the singer asked, raising an eyebrow and turning his head upwards to look at his friend in mild confusion.

"Cause I don't wanna go alone? Pleeease, Patrick? It's not safe for me to go out alone this time of night," Pete replied jokingly. He began leaning against Patrick heavily as to annoy him, to which his best friend chuckled quietly as he attempted to shove him away; to no avail, of course. In the background, Joe looked at Andy and pretended to puke at their friend's antics. Andy snickered.

"Alright, alright, fine," Patrick replied, pushing him off as he stood up. "Since you insist."

"Great!" Pete beamed, turning to Joe and Andy and pointing at them. "Don't destroy my house." he said scoldingly, like a parent talking to a child.

"We'll try," Joe replied as he threw a balloon at Andy's head, who hit it back with the palm of his hand. Pete then turned, throwing a jacket on as he turned and walked out of his front door, Patrick following behind him.

It was the last time Patrick saw Joe and Andy that night.

Pete strode up to his car casually, one hand in his hoodie pocket, securing his keys, and the other jutting out to open the passenger car door. "After you, m'lady," he said with a snicker and a bow, which earned him a playful punch in the shoulder from Patrick.

"Gee, thanks," he replied with an eye roll, though he was grinning. He climbed inside, buckling up and watching Pete half-jog half-walk around the front of the car to get inside himself. He frowned at him when he started backing out of his driveway without putting on a seatbelt. "Hey, it's, like, illegal and stuff to drive without a seatbelt." he chided with a small grin. Pete grinned back and put the seatbelt on per Patrick's request. Patrick didn't know that he saved Pete's life just by doing that. At the time, neither did Pete.

It usually wasn't a very long drive to the supermarket that Pete had ordered the cake from. It shouldn't have taken them over 15 minutes to go out, get the food, and come back to Joe and Andy. The two of them had been talking as casually as they always had been with each other on the ride there, both completely comfortable enough with the other to say whatever was on their mind. It rang true for both of them that the point of their lives they were at right now was the happiest both of them had ever been. It only took a single moment to rip that away.

Pete saw the headlights when it was much too late to turn the steering wheel away. Whoever was coming towards them was quite obviously incredibly drunk--drunk enough to swerve completely on the wrong side of the road towards an oncoming vehicle. Whatever had happened after they collided, Pete did not remember much of. He did, however, remember Patrick trying to choke out his name, or he thought he was trying to say his name, in absolute terror just before he and the other car collided. After that, he wouldn't have been able to tell someone what exactly had happened if he tried. 

He had woken up in the hospital approximately a day to two days later, surrounded by family. Friends had came by and visited, he was informed, and had even given him gifts and cards wishing him well. The doctors explained to him that nothing too life-changing had happened to him--he had broken his arm, had to get some stitches, and suffered some minor cuts, but he could expect to be out of the hospital within the next week. In fact, the doctor said, Pete had 'really gotten lucky.' Pete didn't consider himself lucky, really, he had been in what had to have been a terrible wreck, but at least he was alive. It then dawned on him that he wasn't the only person involved in said wreck, and his stomach churned with worry. The next thing to come out of his mouth, the first thing he had said since the confusion of waking up in a hospital had cleared, was him asking where Patrick was. The doctor's face turned grim, and, well, Pete should have known something was wrong then.

Patrick was dead.


	2. Chapter 2

As promised, Pete was released from the hospital a week later. They told him he could have been released earlier, but they wanted to ensure that he had not suffered any head trauma from the crash. Frankly, he was a little thankful they didn't send him home any earlier. He had dealt with grief of all forms before, everyone does at one point in their lives, but he had never felt grief as great at this. It sounded a little dramatic, even to himself, but it felt like a part of him had been ripped away from him. He felt empty inside, which was not a feeling foreign to him, but this was different.

He was in the hospital during Patrick's funeral. He wasn't sure that he could stomach going even if he were able to, so perhaps it was somehow a good thing that he was unable to attend.  Seeing him dead would make it feel more real somehow; not to mention the fact he was sure he couldn't handle seeing Patrick's family grieve like that; grieve like he was. What if people blamed him for Patrick's death? He sure as hell blamed himself. It was he who suggested that Patrick come with him, and it was he who suggested the stupid ass party in the first place. All he wanted was to spend time with Andy, Joe, and Patrick before they took a small break; he had never meant for something like this to happen. He had never meant for Patrick, his sweet, smart, always-there-for-him best friend, to die. The man he would take a bullet for. He felt it should have been him instead. Sometimes Pete wished he could turn back time.

He would never stop blaming himself for Patrick's death, he was sure of it. Oddly enough, he did not shed a tear while in the hospital, even when he was first informed that Patrick hadn't survived the crash. He laid there for days, mainly unresponsive and silent aside from answering doctors, short conversations with his mother, and having small talks with friends who would come and visit. Among those friends were Joe and Andy, of course, who were also blowing his phone up daily making sure he was alright. He appreciated it, he really did. He just felt he didn't deserve it; and he didn't have the energy to reply half the time. Made him feel worse, really.

No, the tears and the breakdowns only came when Pete had Joe drop him off at his house when he was released from the hospital, seeing as he was in no condition to drive himself with a broken arm. He had his friend drop him off and then he had requested to be alone for a while. He saw Joe's concerned expression, but only offered a weak smile in return. He knew Joe was suffering too, as well as Andy. Patrick was their friend, too. More like family.

His broken arm restricted him from doing a lot of things; playing bass was out of the question, obviously, but luckily it wasn't the arm with his writing hand. Not that either of those would do him any good, anyways. Fall Out Boy was finished. It had always been a mutual agreement that without himself, Joe, Andy, or Patrick, Fall Out Boy wasn't going to exist. Not that Fall Out Boy was the most important thing on his mind currently; it was far from it, really.

Speaking of Fall Out Boy, telling the fans was one of the worst parts of it all. Even though he was sure that the band was not everyone's top concern, he felt the kids deserved some kind of explanation. What was to come next. Pete had written a decently-sized couple of paragraphs about Patrick and about the fate of Fall Out Boy, and that had been that. Which, having to write about Patrick had spurred more tears, of course. He was sure someone else could have done it, but Pete wanted to. He felt he owed Patrick that, at least. It was hard to even think of Patrick or even hear his name without becoming completely distraught. After he had posted the paragraphs on all social media websites Fall Out Boy was on, Pete decided not to check social media for a while. It was for the best.

Pete had found out about his 'power' approximately three weeks after the wreck had occurred. It had been a normal day as any for him, really--he had been tidying up around his house, having nothing better to do. He hadn't really been doing anything productive lately other than laying in bed, if that counted, so he supposed that he might as well make his house look more presentable. Pete had been neatly arranging some stuff on an old book shelf, taking a moment to filter through some of the books before dusting off the spot they were in and putting them back in their proper place. He picked up the next book in line, opening it up when unexpectedly a small piece of paper fell out and landed somewhere near his feet. He sat the book down, confused as to why he would have a piece of paper in a book. A bookmark of some sort, perhaps? He bent down and picked it up. It felt glossy, like a photo, and he turned it over to see what it was.

It was an old photo of he and Patrick. Of course it was. He tried to take his mind off of it, and as if fate meant for this to happen, a random old photo of him had came out of nowhere.

Despite how much it made his heart clench to look at him, he couldn't help but smile fondly at the photo. He barely remembered even taking it(who even gave him a Polaroid camera? that wasn't important anyway, he guessed,) and he flipped it over to look for a date. No date. He flipped the photo back over to look at it again. There were a few clues to when it was taken, however, if he had to take a guess just by their appearances. Pete still had his old hair, flattened to where it nearly hung over his right eye, and he had his arm hooked tightly around Patrick. A cheesy grin was plastered on his face. Patrick had a cap pulled over his eyes as per usual, he was wearing his glasses, the sideburns were there, and his hair was getting a bit on the long side. He was giving a look of mock-annoyance at Pete's antics. It was probably some time in early 2007 if he were to take a guess.

Pete was about to put the photo up somewhere where it would be safe when he suddenly got a blinding headache--literally. His vision was completely blocked by a bright white light, as if someone had a high-power flashlight and were shining it directly into his eyes. He shut his eyes tightly, or at least he thought he did in his disorientation, though this did not block out the pain or the blinding light. Only a few short moments later, everything went black.


	3. Chapter 3

..and then Pete was lowering his arm, the flash of a camera had just gone off, said camera secured in his hand and then placed in his lap. For a minute or two, he felt disembodied, as if he were watching his own arm move through a screen, like a movie, like he were not the one controlling it. Then as his senses came flooding back slowly; he heard a familiar voice murmur something next to him-

  
_patrick?_

  
-and his vision began to clear, as if he were previously in a fog. He blinked twice. This..wasn't his home. It was somewhere familiar, but for a moment his brain was scrambled, reeling from the confusion of having blacked out and woken up somewhere that was not the same place as before. It then dawned on him full force where he was, and he had to swallow back a yell of surprise.

  
It was their old tour bus. Like the one in that photo..

  
He looked down in his lap; and there it was. The picture he had been looking at before he..passed out? Blacked out? Whatever the hell had happened, there it was, freshly taken and laying right in his lap along with the camera he had used to take it. Beside of him, he heard, "What? Is it that bad?" in a light, joking tone. He stiffened, almost reluctant to look over, because now that his mind had cleared a bit(even though he was still _incredibly_ confused about how he got back here,) he knew whose voice that was.

  
He turned to look at Patrick, his eyes widening a touch. He looked exactly the same as he had in that photo, and said photo couldn't have been taken any later than early 2007. So _how_? _How_ was he looking into the face of a much younger version of his best friend? _How_ was he sitting on their old tour bus? He wondered for a moment if one of his worst fears had come to life. He had always feared, somewhat irrationally, he knew, that everything that had happened to him was a dream, and one day he would wake up and he wouldn't have met Patrick or Joe or Andy and there would be no Fall Out Boy. Everything had seemed to be too good to be true, but damn, he didn't expect that to actually happen. Perhaps it hadn't completely came true; Patrick was sitting right in front of him and they were on their old tour bus, after all, but the thought still horrified him. Things had gotten so much _better_ , and now..

  
No. He refused to let himself believe that. There was no way he had just dreamed all that had happened to him. It was too real, it was way too real, it didn't have the foggy effect that a dream would have. Everything that had happened that led up to 2016 was real, and it had happened. It had to have. However, that didn't explain how the hell he had gotten back to 2007.

  
"Hello? Earth to Pete Wentz." Patrick's voice came suddenly. Pete could hear panic edging in Patrick's voice slightly, though he was trying to keep it steady. He had been shaking him. "You're freaking me out a little." he said, releasing him once he had noticed Pete's eyes focused a little. "You there? You look like you've seen a ghost." he then remarked.

  
Pete barked out a nervous laugh that didn't even sound like his own at that; not because it was funny, but just at the irony of the statement. Oh, if only he knew. Despite his confusion about being in the past now, it hit him like a ton of bricks that Patrick, his best friend who had died, was now back in front of him. A little younger, but there nonetheless. It had always been Patrick, Patrick was always his best friend, had always been one of the most important people in his life, and he was back. "I'm fine, I just.." he trailed off, cringing inwardly at how young his voice sounded. He wasn't aware of it, but his eyes had filled with tears and he lunged forward suddenly to capture Patrick in a tight embrace. Without hesitation Patrick wrapped his arms around him, even though Pete was sure he was weirding him the hell out wit his odd behavior. Pete inhaled shakily, trying to control his emotions as to not scare Patrick further, but god was it hard not to cry. For a few moments, he had forgotten that he was no longer in 2016, his brain only registering that Patrick was here and alive.

  
Pete hadn't kept track of exactly how long he had stayed curled up in Patrick's arms, but after several minutes Patrick spoke up. "So, are you going to explain, or.." he asked hesitantly before backpedaling. "I mean, you don't have to. I've just never seen you do this before. We were fine, you seemed fine, and then you just got all.." he trailed off. Pete listened to the low hum of the bus driving over a long stretch of road for a few moments before Patrick continued. "I don't know. You freaked me out." he admitted.

  
"Sorry," Pete said, his voice coming out nasally. He sniffled. Obviously he couldn't tell Patrick the truth. _Oh yeah, Patrick, I'm actually Pete from 2016 and you died because of me. I don't know why I'm here, but have a great day!_ He grimaced. "I just, uh. Had a bad dream. About you. I don't know why but I just remembered it. It was really terrible." he said. There was a slightly uncomfortable silence between them for a few moments, and Pete was tense as he wondered if Patrick bought the lie.

  
"I can tell that's kind of a load of crap, but that's alright. You don't have to tell me right now." Patrick said. Pete cringed a little, but he was glad he didn't press the issue further. Thank God for Patrick Stump and his way of being incredibly understanding.

  
A much more comfortable silence fell between them then, though Pete didn't move out of Patrick's arms. Somewhere in his mind he wondered if he was bothering him, however, even though he found it a touch selfish, he decided not to care. In 2016, Patrick was dead. He didn't know how long he'd be here, or be with Patrick. He then blinked; he truly didn't know how much longer he would be able to enjoy Patrick's company. He didn't even know how he had gotten here in the first place, or when he'd get back or if he ever would.

  
If there was just something he could do to change Patrick's fate..but in this time period, as far as he was aware, there was nothing he could do to change the way that things had inevitably ended. He could, however, perhaps try to get some closure. When Patrick had died, there was no saying goodbye. The last image he would have of his friend was his face moments before the two cars collided. And really, there were a lot of unspoken things between the two of them that never got to be said. Things that had gotten repressed for various reasons; fear of losing the friendship, ruining the band, fear of losing each other. Somehow, Patrick's death had made him realize just how important it was to say what you had to say and do what you had to do in the time you had with people while you had it. So he threw all caution to the wind. He hadn't a clue how he had got back to 2007, he didn't know if anything he done could change the future, but for a moment those things ceased to matter.

  
Pete tilted his head upwards. Patrick was breathing softly and had his eyes closed, his head leaned up against the window. "Patrick?" he said softly, feeling a little badly for waking him.

  
One of his eyes cracked open, and he peered down at Pete, whom he still had one arm wrapped around. He yawned and rubbed at his eyes under his glasses, sighing softly. "What, Pete?" he asked, sounding a little cranky. Not that Pete blamed him; they hadn't got much sleep back then..or now, he guessed, and Patrick was never really a happy dude when first woken up no matter what time it was.

  
"Are you awake?" he then asked, wanting to ensure that he was completely awake before he said anything.

 

"No. I'm talking in my sleep. I'm not awake at all right now." Patrick replied dryly, giving his eyes one last rub before turning to completely focus on Pete. "Really, what is it?"

  
_Okay,_ Pete thought, mentally psyching himself up. _I'm going to do it._ He had nothing else to lose. _Hell,_ he thought, _maybe all of this right now is just a dream_. His rational side told him otherwise, as it didn't feel like a dream; all of his senses were intact, but he ignored that for now. He sucked in a breath, leaned forward, and pressed his lips to Patrick's.

  
It was more awkward than anything else, just a pressing of lips at a slightly awkward angle-

  
_was he kissing back_?

  
-but it still had meaning behind it. Patrick pulled away, his eyes widening with a hint of anger in them. "Pete, what the fu--"

  
"I'm sorry. I know that was sudden. But Patrick, I..I feel like now is the time for me to confess, or whatever." Pete said, feeling stupid, like a little kid confessing his feelings. "Didn't know how else to say it, so. I was just..thinking about how we should stop being dumb about it. About how we feel. We both know--"

  
"Pete, okay, stop. I don't know where all this came from, but we discussed this before, and frankly I'm not sure if I'm in the mood to go over it again." Patrick said, sounding a little snappy, before his eyes softened. He sighed and removed his arm from around Pete, rubbing his temples. "I'm not trying to be harsh. You--we just--you know we can't. We just _can't_."

  
"Okay, but why not? Because you think it'll mess up our friendship, or the band? I don't want to waste time any more. You never know what could happen. If we don't..if we don't take chances like this when we have the time to, we might not ever be able to." Pete said, looking past Patrick and out of the window now. "And if it doesn't work out, I doubt anything will change between us."

  
Patrick was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, not meeting Pete's eyes. It took him several minutes to reply. "How do you know that?" he finally asked.

  
"Because you're never getting rid of me. Thought you knew that by now." Pete replied, looking over at Patrick who was now smiling at him fondly.

  
"Guess that's true." Patrick responded, shifting his gaze back over to the window. It was silent for a few more moments.

  
"I think--I know that everything will be all right. Things are tough right now, but you gotta just push through." Pete finished, resting his head on Patrick's shoulder. Patrick looked at him.

  
"You are one cheesy ass dude sometimes. How'd you become our song writer again?" Patrick joked, though his voice was filled with affection. "Besides, sounds like something I'd be saying to you. Or something that I should be saying to you."

  
Pete shrugged. "You need to hear it, too. All of us do."

  
Another long pause. Pete had thought that Patrick had fallen asleep once again. A weight felt like it had been lifted off his chest. "I guess we can try," Patrick suddenly remarked, his voice small and hesitant.

  
Pete opened his mouth to reply when suddenly his headache, one similar to the one he had before he had ended up here, occurred once more. He shut his eyes tightly, the white light appearing again, black spots appearing in his vision as he tried desperately not to black out this time. Who knew where he would end up? Despite his efforts, his vision faded to black.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick note here!  
> i do apologize for how long it took me to update. summer's been busy.  
> ..by busy, i mean that i am an extreme procrastinator and i didn't really know where to take the story next i am sorry BUT! here it is! hopefully i can update more frequently. i do plan on finishing this no matter how long it takes.

_It smells like a hospital in here._

  
Those were the first thoughts that Pete had when he woke up.

  
He groaned and reached up to wipe at his eyes, though he didn't open them yet. Was all of that a dream? Was he really still in the hospital, recovering from his injuries?  
..No, wait. He couldn't be. He had reached up to scrub at his eyes with both arms, meaning he didn't have a broken arm. Now opening his eyes, he looked down at both of his arms and moved them around slightly just to confirm this. If his arm was fine, then..wait, what? Where was he now? Could he still be in the past? He rolled out of bed, now just noticing he had awoken in a bed, though in his slight panic and rush he did not take time to pay any attention to what room he was in. He stumbled forward until he found a bathroom, and he flicked on a light once inside, accidentally knocking down some medication bottles in his rush.

  
He looked into the mirror, seeing..well, himself. 2016, current himself. That was relieving, but only for a moment. He had then taken notice of the medication littered all over the counter top. It all appeared to be prescription, but none of it his. None of it he even vaguely recognized. Not to mention, if it was 2016, how was his arm completely fine? And where did all this medication end up where he was? And..wait, _where_ exactly was he? This..wasn't even his bathroom.

  
He stepped out of the bathroom back into what he now noticed was a bedroom. A bedroom that was also not his. Did this mean..had he really time traveled? Did he..change something about the future? He stood in a stunned, confused, and somewhat scared silence for a few moments, looking around the room when his eyes landed on a shape underneath the covers. His stomach lurched. Someone else had been in bed with him? He hadn't even noticed. But _who_?

  
He nervously made his way to the other side of the bed. A normal person would probably bolt and go home, but honestly, after all of the confusion and chaos Pete had been through lately, he felt he at least deserved to know. It wasn't like he really knew where he was, anyway. He peeled back the covers carefully, hoping to just get a glimpse of their face...

  
" _Patrick_?!" he sputtered, completely throwing the covers off of him in surprise. Patrick, who had been sleeping soundly, woke up with a start before making a not very pleased sounding noise.

"Pete. Give me the covers back." he mumbled into his pillow, sounding grumpy in his usual _always grumpy when woken up_ fashion. Pete didn't respond, still stunned. It wasn't like it was weird for them to sleep together or anything; they had done that before. Just..not in a long time. And not in a random house.

  
A few weeks ago(if it had even been weeks? Pete was all confused about time now,) Patrick, his best friend, his other half, was dead. Last night Pete had confessed long pent-up feelings for him in 2007. Now he was laying in front of him in 2016, grumbling for him to give the covers back in a strange house he didn't recognize. Pete decided his life had became some kind of crazy tv show.

  
"..Patrick, where are we?" Pete dared to ask, still holding his blankets hostage.

  
Patrick lifted his head, gave him a scornful look, yanked the covers back out of his hands, and rolled over.

  
Both exasperated and confused, Pete shook him. "No really, we're in some strange house and--"

  
"Pete, please. It's early, and--"

  
"..It's noon, Patrick."

  
"...It's _early_ , and I just wanna sleep. I don't know why you keep saying that when we're clearly home. If this is a prank or something, can it wait until later?" Patrick said with a sigh, sounding resigned, like this was just another one of Pete's antics.

  
"..Home?" Pete questioned, looking around.

  
"Yep. Ever been there?" Patrick replied sarcastically.

  
Pete sighed, stepping back. Clearly there was no reasoning with Patrick right now. Not when he was trying to sleep. Pete had learned that years ago, but, well. He was kind of freaking out. Just a little.

  
Upon exploring the house, it appeared that in this reality he had somehow created he lived with Patrick. He had found things that he knew belonged to him, along with things that he knew belonged to Patrick. The house definitely belonged to the two of them, so that was one good thing, he guessed. He was glad they weren't in a strangers house. He had, at first, pondered on why he would be living with Patrick now. What exactly had he changed about the past that caused this to happen?

  
Well, he only had one conclusion. While he was snooping, he also noticed a ring on his finger. He was confused for a moment until he realized it was a wedding ring..and then it was time for him to freak out a little more. He then put two and two together, and the only thing he could come up with was that confessing his feelings in the past instead of keeping them inside had caused him and Patrick to end up together and eventually get married. It sounded like something out of a science fiction movie, but such was his life now.

  
..And to be honest, he couldn't find any downfalls yet. He was married to the person that he had been in love with for years, Fall Out Boy appeared to be doing fine..so what was the catch? Pete hoped there wasn't one.

  
Pete returned upstairs, searching for Patrick, only to find him gone from where he was previously sleeping. That was when he glanced into the bathroom, remembering all the medication, and curiosity got the best of him. He made his way back into the bathroom, picking up one of the bottles, only to find upon reading the label that it belonged to Patrick. Well, okay, one little bottle wouldn't be weird at all, if it weren't for the fact that most of the prescription bottles appeared to be prescribed for Patrick. And there was a _lot_ of medication. Pete felt concern bubble up inside him and immediately felt he had done enough snooping. He returned downstairs.

  
He found Patrick sitting on the couch cross-legged, eating a bowl of cereal and watching something on the television. Pete walked over and quite awkwardly sat in a chair instead of next to him. Patrick glanced at him, smiled briefly, and then went back to his cereal. It was..well, it was jarring, to say the very least, to suddenly be in a relationship with(no, married to,) someone you always wanted to be with, but never thought you had a chance with. He didn't really know what to do and what not to do--he desperately didn't want to mess up somehow, so there he sat in silence. A silence that was probably comfortable and normal for Patrick, but was abnormal and slightly uncomfortable for Pete.

  
He nearly jumped when Patrick got up suddenly to put his bowl away. Pete sat there, looking at the television but not concentrating on what was on. He was contemplating what to do. This reality seemed great; he just didn't know how to react to being in a completely different universe. Hell, he didn't know how to react to knowing that he had time manipulation powers all of a sudden. He had a hard time believing all of this.

  
Suddenly, Patrick's arms snaked around him from around the back of the chair, and Pete tried not to tense up. It just felt strange. It'd be fine for him to do this to Patrick, but sudden affection from Patrick? Not normal. Well, in this universe it was, but not where he was from. Patrick kissed his neck and then his cheek before making his way back down to the couch and flopping down, sighing. "Good morning," he said, and it took Pete a moment to reply because his head was still swimming because _oh god patrick kissed him._

  
"Still noon, not morning," Pete said teasingly with a smirk, surprised at his own ability to act normal. Maybe he was actually a better actor than he thought.

  
..Alright, no, he wasn't. But he was doing well.

  
Patrick playfully rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes, excuse me, sir. Good afternoon, then." he replied jokingly, letting a few chuckles escape him before he started to cough. Pete thought maybe he had just gotten choked on his spit or something the first few seconds. However, that was clearly not the case, as Patrick just kept coughing and seconds turned to several minutes. Pete was staring at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to do to help him. "Patrick--" Pete began, though he instead opted to actually do something and get up and get him some water instead of staring. He looked around in their fridge and grabbed a bottle of water before returning hurriedly to Patrick's side.

  
Patrick had stopped coughing and cleared his throat with a sigh, his eyes watering. He reached for the water and took a long drink once Pete handed it to him, wincing at the burn it left in his throat. He seemed to pick up on Pete's worry and he looked up at his partner with a shaky smile, meant to be reassuring. "I'm fine. I just haven't taken my medicine yet. And I know, I know..I need to. Not that it's been helping me much lately." he spoke, mumbling the last part under his breath.

  
Pete was giving him a strange look, feeling some kind of sick feeling when he mentioned medicine. All that medication he had seen, Patrick's coughing..something was wrong, though he was afraid to ask what. "..Medicine?" he questioned, screwing the lid back onto the bottle of water when Patrick handed it back.

  
Patrick looked up and nodded, giving him an even stranger look. "Um. Yes? The medication I've been on for a while now. Are..you alright? I thought you were just half asleep earlier when you were asking me where we were, but.." he trailed off, blinking up at Pete with a questioning gaze.

  
Pete had not heard half of what Patrick said, mainly because now that he was getting a good look at Patrick in the light, he realized something was _very wrong_. Patrick was a pasty pale color; he was always kind of pale, but this was different. Now he just looked _ill_. He had lost a lot of weight as well, and his eyes were weighed down with dark shadows underneath. All in all, he looked very unwell. Pete knew that this reality couldn't be as perfect as it seemed.

 

"Hello? You've been staring at me for like, 5 minutes." Patrick said, his tone slightly joking though there was a trace of concern in it. "Pete, really. Are you alright?" he asked.

  
Pete nodded mechanically, forcing a smile to come to his lips. "I'm fine. I'm always staring at you." he said easily, though his entire body was tense with uncertainty and fear for Patrick.

  
Patrick chuckled hoarsely, shaking his head and looking away. His voice sounded rougher after he had coughed so much.

 

"You should go and take your medicine. Sound hoarse," Pete said, pulling Patrick up off the couch by the hand.

  
Patrick nodded, turning away to hide his solemn expression. "I always sound hoarse now," he murmured before treading upstairs.

  
Once Patrick was gone, Pete collapsed back into the chair he had been sitting in, burying his head in his hands. The weight of his wedding ring pressed into his cheek. How could he have messed up so badly? Somehow, in this reality, Patrick was very sick. Pete didn't know with what. He didn't want to know. He decided he needed to fix this--he needed to figure out how to go back in time again. Why Patrick was sick in this timeline he wasn't sure; if he had to guess, it was a subtle hint not to mess with the past. Clearly, he shouldn't have changed something so drastically. He had always wanted Patrick; to be with Patrick. But not like this. Never like this.

  
He was snapped out of his thoughts by another harsh coughing fit. He instinctively jumped up and ran up the stairs, straight into his (their?) bedroom. "Patrick," Pete said breathlessly, rushing over to his side to find the singer hunched over the sink, desperately trying to both clear his throat and get his breath back. He noticed blood dribbling from his lips, and he panicked, rushing for something to wipe it with. "Oh, God, you're--"

  
"I know." Patrick said, sounding more resigned than anything else, as Pete grabbed a cloth and wiped it away.

  
"You okay?" Pete asked, looking up into Patrick's teary eyes.

  
Patrick was silent for a moment. He then inhaled, speaking shakily. "My voice is _so_ screwed from this, Pete." he replied hoarsely, not meeting Pete's gaze but instead staring into the sink. "I'll never sing again. It'll never sound the same. It's..I know that my voice isn't the most important thing about this disease. It could take my _life_ ,"

  
Pete's breath hitched.

  
"But..I..I don't know." Patrick finished, staring blankly ahead, silent.

  
"It's important to you." Pete said, trying desperately for his voice not to sound watery. "Singing is important to you. Music is important to you. You don't have to explain yourself; I get it. No matter what happens, your voice will always sound great to me." he continued, wrapping an arm around Patrick in an attempt to console him slightly.   
Somehow, Pete felt like his altering the past made this his fault, too. One day, he would stop screwing up things for Patrick. He would try to make that day today. "Come here," Pete said, and Patrick turned, shuffling forward and resting his chin on Pete's shoulder. Pete walked them back into the bedroom, sitting Patrick down onto the bed and then curling up next to them. The two intertwined, somewhat naturally.

  
After a few moments of still silence, Patrick spoke up, sounding amused yet still somewhat sniffly. "We just woke up. You realize that, right?"

  
Pete grinned. "Correction. _You_ just woke up. Besides, it's always a good time for cuddling." he retorted, and Patrick smiled softly, closing his eyes.

  
It wasn't long until he drifted off into sleep once again. Pete was still awake, staring at the ceiling. He had been waiting for Patrick to sleep. Supposing the picture was what brought him into the past before, could he manage it again? He just needed to find that picture. He knew it was ridiculous, but he searched his pockets, finding..  
The picture. He blinked in mild surprise. So, if he wasn't absolutely insane and could actually somehow time travel, this meant he could carry things with him, or he could at least carry photographs with him. He looked at the picture, sighing softly. How had he done this before, again? He hadn't even meant to before. Surely he could do it on purpose.

  
He looked down at the sick, sleeping Patrick beside him, and he swore to himself that he'd fix this. He'd fix all of this, somehow, no matter what the cost. He owed Patrick that.   
He then looked back at the picture, trying to focus on it as he had before. Easier said than done when you didn't know how to control the powers you suddenly acquired. He suddenly got a blinding headache, just like the ones he always got before, and his vision faded to black.

  
As expected, he 'woke up' where he was before, back in their old tour bus some time in 2007. He had just taken the picture. Pete blinked, trying to shake off the disassociated feeling he had from his body. Younger Patrick said something next to him, though Pete could hardly hear it. He picked the photo up. "Looks good," he said, his voice sounding a little strained even to himself. Even though he had expected this time to be back in 2007, it didn't make it any less weird and jarring.

  
Patrick shrugged slightly. "I don't even know where you got that thing at, Wentz." he said, referring to the camera, before turning and leaning his head against the window. Pete looked at him for a moment. This time he'd just..leave him be. Surely that would change things. He then looked away, silence falling between the two of them. He made sure to put the photograph in his pocket. He wanted to be with Patrick, but clearly now was not the time. He needed to leave the past in the past.

  
He had learned two things:  
One: Don't screw with the past. His last experience taught him this. In his defense, at that time, he had no clue he had the ability to time travel. At least he had learned a lesson, though he wondered vaguely if he would take that advice for long.  
Two: Somehow, in some crazy, nonsensical way..Pete Wentz could time travel.

  
Suddenly, the headache returned; and quite suddenly at that. But..how? Was it because he altered the past? Where would be end up now? He let the pain take over him, unsure of where he would end up but hoping for the best. His vision faded to black.

 


	5. just an author's note..thing..

hey!! so..it's..been a while. like a year lmAO i'm so sorry.  
looking back on this now, i find it kind of..idk not the best example of my writing?? i'm also not a big writer for like, fandoms and stuff. especially real people. this would be my first piece of fiction not revolving around my own original characters, so i dunno.  
although, there were those of you who really seemed to enjoy it, so thank you so much to those who did.  
i may continue it if anyone wanted me to? i vaguely remember where i was going with this. i read a fic that majorly kicked me back in the mood to continue this, so.   
i also apologize if i got anyone's hopes up for this being an actual chapter haha. i guess this is just me asking if anyone really wants to see this finished and if so i'll delete this author's note and do it (: thank u for ur support !!


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